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THE   WINDOW

they put the light (and James could not sleep
without a light) there was always a shadow some-
where.

" But think. Cam, it's only an old pig," said
Mrs. Ramsay, " a nice black pig like the pigs at
the farm/* But Cam thought it was a horrid
thing, branching at her all over the room.

" Well then," said Mrs. Ramsay, " we will
cover it up," and they all watched her go to the
chest of drawers, and open the little drawers
quickly one after another, and not seeing anything
that would do, she quickly took her own shawl off
and wound it round the skull, round and round
and round, and then sh$ came back to Cam and
laid her head almost flat on the pillow beside
Cam's and said how lovely it looked now; how
the fairies would love it; it was like a bird's nest;
it was like a beautiful mountain such as she
had seen abroad, with valleys and flowers and
bells ringing and birds singing and little goats
and antelopes * . . She could see the words
echoing as she spoke them rhythmically in Cam's
mind, and Cam was repeating after her how it
was like a mountain, a bird's nest, a garden, and
there were little antelopes, and her eyes were
opening and shutting, and Mrs. Ramsay went
on saying still more monotonously, and more
rhythmically and more nonsensically, how she
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